by Rysa Walker
“You’re right. It was the best option. But do you really think Cregg was using me to influence Kelsey? Why didn’t it work on any of you? I know Daniel wasn’t there, but—”
Daniel cuts me off. “Taylor can explain all of this. We need to go.”
I grab my travel mug from the side holder and slip my arms into my jacket. “Be careful. All of you.”
“Yeah,” Deo says. “You, too.”
“Anna?” Aaron reaches out the window and takes my arm. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I’ve been so angry. I know this isn’t your fault. I know you weren’t trying to worry us, it’s just . . .”
“It’s just that I did worry you. I know. I’m sorry, too.” I press a quick kiss to his lips. “And please keep an eye on D. He’s new to all this.”
Daniel snorts. “Don’t worry. I’ll be keeping an eye on Deo. And he definitely won’t be armed.”
I can tell Daniel is joking, but I don’t laugh. It feels like kind of a mean joke, given the mental anguish Deo went through after accidentally shooting him. Deo and Aaron both snicker, however, proving I will never, ever understand guys. Deo, who has moved up to take my spot in the car, even prods Daniel’s seat with his knee. “Better watch your back, man.”
“It was my front last time, you jackass. And I’m—”
Whatever else Daniel says is lost as Aaron pulls away. I guess the bright side is that if Daniel is joking around with D, he must have made his peace with the fact that Deo and Taylor are together. A few months ago, I’d have been worried about Deo’s back if Daniel was nearby, given how angry Daniel was about their relationship.
It’s amazing how dark the night is now that the dim amber glow of the parking lights has vanished. I spot Taylor a few yards away, crouched next to a tree. A canvas bag and a gun are in front of her.
Taylor looks up over her shoulder as I approach. “This is mine.” She slings the canvas bag over her shoulder and clips the pistol to her belt. “Meds or no meds, you won’t be carrying a weapon around me until I’m convinced that son of a bitch is out of your head and on his way to whatever eternal punishment awaits him.”
I don’t have the slightest problem with that. Personally, I think the fact that I’m on meds is, in and of itself, an irrefutable argument against me having a gun. So is the lack of sleep.
“Understood.” I pull my new can of pepper spray out of my pocket. “Do you want this too?”
Taylor looks at it for a moment, then reluctantly shakes her head. “I guess you need something on you. Just know that if you spray—”
“You’ll shoot me. Yeah, yeah.”
“Didn’t say that,” Taylor says, and stomps off through the trees toward the building with the crenellated roof.
“But you would.”
“Maybe.”
I pick up the pace to catch up with her. We approach the building from the rear, and it’s so dark at first that it’s hard to see anything as we push our way through the low-lying trees and brush. The dorm itself sits at the end of a long courtyard that stretches maybe a quarter of a mile. Once we’re out in the open, my eyes identify some of the shapes in the distance that are slightly darker than the evening sky. Near the other end of the courtyard, I pick out the ruins of Memorial Hall. Two of the buildings on our end seem intact, including the one we’re headed toward, but most were devoured by the fires.
We climb the steps, and Taylor inserts the key Daniel gave her. The lock opens, but the door doesn’t. She tries again, even though we both heard the lock release.
Taylor curses softly. “The dead bolt. Someone must have locked it and gone out another door.”
“Except Daniel told us the other entrances were boarded up. No, actually . . . he said bricked. Maybe a window?” The windows on this first level are barricaded, but I nod up toward the second level where about half of the glass is out.
“Maybe. I’m going to see if I can reach a window from that fire escape. Stay here.”
I do stay at first, even after I hear the tinkle of breaking glass. But then something larger hits the ground, and I hurry to the side of the building, nearly tripping over a chunk of wood as I round the corner. I expect to see Taylor either on the fire escape ladder or flat on the ground. But she’s gone.
“Taylor?” I say, keeping my voice low. “Taylor!”
There’s a noise from above and her head emerges, framed by the window.
“Almost fell, thanks to that piece of rotted molding,” she says, nodding down toward my feet. “Go back around. I’ll unlock the door.”
Once I’m inside, she throws the dead bolt again and inspects it with her tiny pink flashlight.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. That lock just . . . bugs me.” Taylor takes puzzles she can’t solve as a personal offense. She stares at the thing a moment longer, then shakes her head in annoyance and turns toward the interior of the building.
We continue down the foyer into a massive open space. It’s empty now, except for a large pile of debris near the fireplace at the far end. Taylor gives the room a cursory sweep with the flashlight and then heads toward the staircase.
“Shouldn’t we search this floor first?” I ask.
“If anyone was here, they’d have jumped out with a gun by now,” Taylor says wryly. “My entry wasn’t exactly silent.”
I follow her up the staircase. Daniel was right about it being solid. Taylor’s flashlight picks up the gleam of newer boards and nails in several places, and the banister between the third and fourth floors looks like it was replaced recently. I guess it got a safety makeover from the guards who were working with Delphi before Daniel joined.
The top floor is one long room, lined with windows on all four sides. A thin layer of dust coats the floor, rising into the air with each step we take. The pathetic little sliver of moon manages to partially illuminate the side facing the courtyard, but it’s hard to even make out the edges of the windows along the sides or the back wall, which faces the woods.
Taylor drops her bag near the middle of the room and pulls out two pairs of night-vision goggles, both with Vigilance Security stamped on the side. As much as I detest Miller, I have to admit he has reason to be annoyed, given how often we borrow his equipment without asking.
“Maybe we should start by circling the room,” Taylor says. “I’ll go left and you go right, then we’ll cross over. That way two sets of eyes cover each sector.”
“Works for me.” I’m surprised she doesn’t just come out and say she needs to double-check everything I do. She’s rarely tactful, and it’s not like I’m going to argue the point in my present state.
“So . . . where’s the headgear?” I ask, feeling a tiny bit of déjà vu. I’d forgotten that part of the vision.
Taylor frowns, confused.
“The straps that hold the goggles on your head. So your hands are free?”
“Crap. I didn’t see those. We’ll have to do without.”
She sounds embarrassed. I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, Taylor doesn’t make a lot of mistakes, and she’s perfectly willing to gloat when normal mortals do. On the other hand, it means we’re going to be stuck lugging these things around. Plus, I feel somewhat guilty, since I knew she’d forget them and forgot to tell her. Not that I could have told her, anyway, but . . .
Jaden’s visions may be a gift, but they give me a headache.
I move to a window near the middle of the back wall and scan the trees for signs of movement. “To get back to what we were discussing in the car, if you think Cregg was able sway Kelsey, why didn’t it work on the rest of you?”
“I think it did work on Aaron a few times. Deo, too. Not anything that stuck, but enough that they were acting . . . strange. Daniel says it could be harder for Cregg to work through you, like it was for him. Anyway, once they seemed normal again, I told them—including Kelsey—to make sure they only talked to you if you were moving. Walking. Cregg has to hold still when he uses his ability. And they
did. They started noticing the same weird stuff I was seeing from you. But Kelsey wanted to try hypnosis, to get a feel for what was going on inside that overcrowded head of yours, before continuing on the antipsychotic. She said hypnosis worked well for you in the past, back with this Myron guy. It didn’t occur to any of us that, in order to hypnotize you, you’d have to be—”
“Sitting still.”
“Exactly,” she says, moving to the next window. “And I think he turned the tables on her. After that, she was . . . different. She wouldn’t even discuss the possibility of the second injection. Kept insisting it was Myron.”
“Is Kelsey okay? What if he planted some sort of posthypnotic suggestion?”
Taylor’s phone buzzes with an incoming text. She reads it and then says, “The guys are in place near the side gate. No vehicles or any sign Whistler beat us here. And . . . as for Kelsey, Miranda and Maria are keeping an eye on her. We’re hoping whatever whammy he put on her might fade if you aren’t . . . Sorry. If he isn’t around to reinforce it.”
Once we move to the next window, we’re far enough apart we can no longer whisper, and talking loudly seems ill-advised. I keep scanning for anything that isn’t a tree, but the only things I spot are a few abandoned houses, a raccoon, and some traffic out on the road that leads into Port Deposit.
And my face with spider eyes. It’s only for a second. Just a brief glimpse of my altered reflection in the cracked window. But it rattles the hell out of me.
“Hey, Taylor?”
“Yeah?” She looks up from typing into her phone. Her face is illuminated from below by the light from the screen, and it almost looks as though her head and shoulders are floating, disembodied, in the darkness.
“When can I take another one of those pills?”
Her hand moves to the gun. “Technically in about an hour. But you could take it now without any problem. Is it getting harder to keep the walls up?”
“Not exactly,” I say, shaking one of the tablets into my palm. “More that . . . creepy thoughts are getting through.”
“Are we talking what-would-happen-if-I-grabbed-that-steering-wheel kind of thoughts? Or throw-myself-out-that-window thoughts?”
“Neither. I’m in control, Taylor.”
“Okay. Take just one. Don’t swallow it. Let it dissolve. And let me know if things get worse, because it doesn’t kick in immediately.”
“Yeah. I noticed. Things were shaky a little before dawn today, but they seemed to get better as the day went on.”
Of course, around dawn I was alone in a strange house. And now I’m almost alone, in the dark, in a different strange house. There’s a real possibility that circumstances are at least partly to blame for me getting spooked, but I can’t afford to take any chances.
I place one of the tablets in my mouth and stash the pill bottle back in my pocket.
“We could also do the second injection. It’s a day or so early, but . . .”
“Did you get that from Jasper, too?”
“Um . . . no. There may have been some minor larceny involved.”
“Kelsey keeps the medications in a safe.”
“And Maria . . . ?”
“Oh. She plucked the combination right out of Kelsey’s head. Please tell me that’s the only thing you took?”
“Why do you hear larceny and automatically assume it was me? It was Deo. And of course it’s the only thing he took. He’s not a druggie. Do you want me to give you the injection or not?”
“Here?” The word comes out as a squeak.
“Yes, here. It’s not open-heart surgery. I have a sterile wipe, and the needle just goes in the deltoid. It’s basically the same thing I did with Deo’s shots before they had Magda’s nurses take over. Easy peasy.”
“But . . . I just took one of the pills.”
“Doesn’t matter. It takes time for the injected form to get into your system. We can wait if you want. I just thought . . .” She shrugs. “You’re in control now. If it was me, I’d be doing everything I could to make sure I stayed that way.”
I slip off the jacket and roll up my sleeve. “I’m going to have to sit down. And please don’t wave that needle around.”
“Jeez . . .” Taylor says, crouching down next to me. She swipes my upper arm with the alcohol pad, and I look the other way. “What a baby. This would hurt a lot less if you’d relax the muscle, you know.”
I don’t bother telling her that this is one of the not-so-fun side effects of being a walking ghost hotel. People leave their phobias behind along with their memories. This particular fear is a relic of the hypochondriac I hosted. She was petrified of needles, but it was her deep and abiding love for pills that eventually killed her.
“We should wait until there’s someone else here.”
“Too late,” Taylor says as she presses the plunger.
As soon as the needle enters my arm, the clatter behind my walls escalates. I keep control, and in retrospect, it’s probably a good thing we didn’t try this with Aaron around. I’m pretty sure he’d have sensed Cregg raging right below the surface.
A second later, it’s over. “I don’t have a Band-Aid. Just hold your finger on the spot for a few.”
We both go back to our lookout duties. I take extra care to keep my eyes focused for distance vision so I don’t risk another encounter with my reflection. I’ve nearly worked my way back around to my original window when an audible gasp comes from Taylor’s side of the room.
“What?”
“Come look. Hurry, before they’re gone.”
Something is moving through the grass below us. When I raise the night-vision goggles, I pick out a herd of deer, nine or ten at least, running together through the courtyard. It’s a beautiful sight, but also eerie. Their movements are graceful, almost like a coordinated dance, and their eyes stand out stark white, while everything else about them is painted in shades of gray.
“Wonder what they’re running from?” Taylor asks.
“They’re not running from anything. I think they’re just running for the sheer joy of it.”
That concept is clearly a foreign one to Taylor. She sniffs dismissively and says, “They’re pretty, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many deer at once.” Her phone buzzes again, and she tugs it out of her pocket as she shifts over to the next window.
Once the deer have moved on, I raise the night-vision goggles and zoom in on the cluster of trees behind the spot where they were grazing. I can just make out a small house set back into the woods. It looks like it’s on the other side of the road we drove in on. Daniel pointed out several of them, noting that they once housed faculty at the school and, later, the families of various naval officers who served at the Bainbridge Center.
The house isn’t what catches my eye, however. It’s the smaller shape behind the house, partially obscured.
“Taylor. I’ve got something.” When she comes over, I point toward the house. “Look behind it. Is that a car?”
“Maybe,” she says after a moment. “I’m not sure. I need a closer look.”
She heads toward the staircase, and I follow her. “Except . . . Daniel said we were only on lookout duty. That you should text him if we see anything.”
“Yeah, well . . . they’re busy,” she says, hurrying down the steps. “A car just entered the facility from that side entrance they were watching.”
“So why even check this out, then? If they’re bringing my father in the other way—”
“Aaron’s text said the car they saw is a police car. Someone must have called in a report. Maybe they saw us on the way in.” She draws the gun and pushes the door open with her shoulder. “You should wait here. Lock the door. I’ll go check it out and—”
“Nope. Buddy system.”
I don’t add that I’m more worried about staying here alone than going out there with her. And maybe she’s nervous about being alone, too, because she doesn’t argue.
“Fine. Stick close. And stay in fr
ont where I can see you.”
We work our way to the left side of the cluster of trees where Aaron dropped us off. Taylor crouches down and I follow her lead.
“Definitely a vehicle,” she says. “Most likely abandoned. But we need to make sure, I guess.”
She motions forward, and we both dart across the narrow road. One section of the house is entirely caved in, and vines wind in and out of what’s left of the frame. The car, which turns out to be a white van, is now fully in view. And once we get closer, I see the large dent just above the left front tire.
“It’s not a recent model,” Taylor says. “But I don’t think it has been here long.”
“No. It hasn’t been here long at all. In fact, the engine is probably still warm. This is the van that was hijacked by the guy who tried to kill my father.”
OP-ED FROM THE HILL
April 24, 2020
Can a third party win the US presidency? Prior to 2018, the consensus among political scientists (and political junkies) was a resounding no. The two major parties have maintained a solid lock on the Oval Office since 1860, and the reason goes deeper than simply party allegiance. Unlike many representative democracies around the world, the very structure of the US political system heavily encourages only two parties, due to winner-take-all districts in most states and institutions like the electoral college.
In the wake of the 2016 election and its aftermath, however, all bets are off. Opinion polls show both major parties well below 50 percent approval. Third parties performed better than expected in the 2018 elections. Some of these were perennial also-ran parties, like the Green and the Libertarians, but the biggest gains were made by a relatively new player—Unify America. Only one senator, Ronald T. Cregg of Pennsylvania, has switched to UA to date. Four members of the House of Representatives followed suit prior to the 2018 election—and all four retained their seats. The wave of victories was even more impressive at the state level. Three governors and over fifty candidates for state legislatures ran under the UA banner. To the surprise of many pundits and pollsters, most of them won.
